Suppose it starts with wildfire; lightning on your driest trees or once-loved campsites left neglected, or kindling that you'll never see-- it all burns just the same.
Suppose it starts with wildfire; flames beget a blood orange sky and magma pits beside black trees, and all your kindest woodland creatures hurt and hide and crawl away-- but they burn all the same.
Suppose it starts with wildfire; see your landscape on the hill, sickly scorched with trees rail thin, stark beside lush greenery, almost lovely in how clear the story of the suffering feels, and burning's just the same.
So what if it starts with wildfire? There's no need for water, seeds, when warmth still crackles in the wood and you have pain and gasoline; light the match and you will see-- it still burns just the same.